One thought on “C4I, Call 4 investigation – May 30, on pedophilia.”

“This is a story about the incidents/events that have shaped my life throughout the years. Some may question why I am coming forward so late in my life with this exposure. Those who know anything about Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) and Mind Control know that these memories are programmed to stay hidden, locked away in the altered personalities the programmers create within your mind. However, many victims do not start to recall past events until they are in their 30’s or 40’s, if at all. I am in my mid 50’s and seriously did not know that the reason why my life had been so messed up was not all my fault. I write my story so that others may be exposed to the dark side of the Mormon Church and SRA…

My memories did not start coming forward until I started researching SRA and Mind Control. It was a very trying time for me as I went into deep meditation and prayer to find the truth as to why I was the way I was. I give all glory and deepest gratitude to my Savior Jesus Christ for helping me expose the truth within me and for the amazing journey of healing that I have been on. I must also give extreme gratitude to my dear husband who has lovingly stayed by my side throughout many years of extreme turmoil. Most men would have divorced a wife who put them through so much but he stuck by my side. I also thank my dear girlfriend who is a trailblazer for clearing all darkness within to the light of the Kingdom of God. Without her loving guidance and support, I would not be telling this story today. While it may be disturbing for some to read, it does have a happy conclusion and I can see the close of this section of the book of my existence ending that “She lived happily ever after.”

I was born into the Mormon Church in the mid 1950’s to a regular, one-income family in Buena Park, California. I was the third daughter in a family of 5 children. We adopted my brother who was six at the time the same year my younger brother was born in 1960. The doctor who delivered me was our family practitioner (I’ll call him Dr. Clarkton), a member of our church ward in Buena Park, and also a family friend. My mom used to tell me that when he delivered me, he said to my mom: “Here is a very special baby… she will give you great joy.” I now know that the dark unseen spirits are keenly aware of who the special spirits are and watch for when they are born so that they can start messing with them at an early age….

One of my earliest recollections was of going to church when I was around three years old. In the early years of the Anaheim, California Stake, there weren’t enough chapels for all the wards and we were holding our services at a local Masonic Temple. I remember that when my mom would go to Relief Society meeting, we went to the nursery that was in a room off the stage that had large blue curtains. We had to walk up some stairs to go to that room. I was terrified of going to nursery, and now know that the programming started there at the Masonic Temple….

One of my earliest recollections of abusive behavior towards myself, and one that I still struggle with as I am writing this, is self-mutilation. I have had a severe problem with ripping my fingernails and toenails off, eating the nails, and chewing on my hangnails until they bled profusely. I would always suck the blood. I have always loved the taste of my own skin and blood. This is obviously not normal behavior but for all of my life, if I have not had something on my body hurting or in pain, I didn’t feel normal….

When I was three years old, we moved from Buena Park to a new tract home in La Habra/Brea. A few months after that, Dr. Clarkton, who was a struggling family practice doctor with 9 children, bought a Spanish mansion in the La Habra Heights area for $150,000 (this would probably be equal to more than one million dollars in today’s worth but don’t quote me on that). I remember my dad wondering how they were able to pull that off. (When you oath yourself to the dark side, you will enjoy financial wealth beyond your dreams.)…

Dr. Clarkton’s daughter Sara (name changed) was the same age as me and we quickly became best friends. I spent a significant part of my growing up years at her house for sleepovers or when my mom needed a babysitter. Sara shared a large bedroom with her sister Cheryl (name changed) and they had their own bathroom off the bedroom. Sara and I would share her twin bed when I would sleep over. Shortly after they moved to our new ward/stake, Dr. Clarkton was called to be the Stake Patriarch (in Mormon Church).

Sara told me things that I didn’t know how to process during those tender, early years. She would tell me how her dad would get all the kids out of their beds in the middle of the night, strip them naked and throw them into the cold swimming pool (they didn’t heat it). She also told me that her dad would make her shower with him and that he would walk around naked in front of the kids. I really didn’t have any reason to question this since he was my doctor and I looked up to him like a god…

I think it was when I was about six years old that the horror started in earnest. Dr. Clarkton and Sister Clarkton were not who they appeared to be in the church and in public. Another thing I remember was that they had a very dark, scary basement of which I was terrified. When I was around 6 or 7 years old, Sara and I were drugged, taken into a special room in the basement and were forced to watch each other as her dad raped us…

… He and Ruth also killed her beloved poodle dog in front of us. I don’t know if there were other animal sacrifices at other times, but induced trauma through blood sacrifices is part SRA to assist in the mind control.

In 1960 we adopted my older brother when he was six years old. My brother had not been circumcised. When he turned 12, Dr. Clarkton told my parents that my brother should be circumcised and they allowed him to do that at 12 YEARS OLD! I remember my brother was highly traumatized by that. Why on earth would Dr. Clarkton do that to a 12 year old boy??? There was no medical reason at all for this…

My parents were very abusive towards us. Both of my parents were raised with extreme punishment. My dad was regularly beaten with a razor strap and my mom was beaten with a tree branch. This carried over to their discipline methods to us. My dad was also a master at extreme emotional and mental abuse. In addition to the beatings we would receive, they would tell us how bad we were, and make us confess to things we didn’t do. If we ever tried to speak up for ourselves, we were beaten more and harder. During the beatings the words of how dirty, bad, and worthless we were would be shouted at us. My dad hit my sister in the head so hard once that her eardrum was broken.

Of course, it was Dr. Clarkton, the church Patriarch, who fixed it up and kept his mouth shut. When we were in trouble (for just being kids and doing things that kids do) my mom would make us go outside to one of the fruit trees in the back yard and break off a branch to be used on our bare bottoms. When she was done she would tell us, “Just wait until your father gets home.” Then when my dad came home, he made us go into his closet and select the belt that he would then use on our bare bottoms. If I were to describe one emotion that was a constant in my life growing up, it would be FEAR.

For some reason, however, it was my mother who reserved all of her frustrations, hatred and feelings of loss of control, to take them out on me. My other siblings were spared her most violent rages, but not me. For most of my growing up years, Dr. Clarkton kept my mother drugged with anti-depressants (Elavil and Triavil), sleeping pills, Valium and Ionamin (a form of amphetamine) even though she was never overweight. I’m sure this combination (along with her own traumatic childhood) helped contribute to the repeated abuse. There was one time when I was in fifth grade and my brother told my mom that he was missing 10 cents. She rounded us all up and started the usual way of finding out who the culprit was. If no one confessed, we were all beaten until one of us would confess.

I confessed to taking my brother’s money (I don’t remember if I really did or not) and thought that since I was being truthful, she would spare the beating. This turned out to be the worst one. She snapped and dragged me into her bedroom where she took off my pants and underwear, and with her bare hand, hit me repeatedly for a very long time on the backs of my legs, buttocks and lower back. She hit me so hard I’m amazed that she didn’t break any bones in her hand. I lost control of time so I don’t know how long this went on. The next thing I remembered was lying in her bed with the covers on me and she was sobbing and apologizing. I was shaking uncontrollably and probably went into some form of shock. She kept me home from school that week but during that time, I got sicker and sicker. My entire back side was covered in black and blue welts and I had trouble sitting, getting dressed or putting on my shoes. I couldn’t concentrate, didn’t want to play; I stayed in bed and retreated into myself. She eventually took me to Dr. Clarkton who gave me some yellow medicine and said I was suffering from anemia. I didn’t go to school for three weeks.”